NaBloPo Mo 11
At the Movies
I remember my mother sneaking candy and sodas
in her purse past the Circle 6 box office,
me handing the tickets to the usher
and entering the dark cave
with its silvered glyphs on screen,
but that doesn’t matter.
I’d study the movie listings
like the betting line for the race track.
What will it be this week, E.T?
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan?
Poltergeist? While other girls
collected Barbie dolls I collected
ticket stubs. On Sunday afternoons
you’d find us slumped in our
orange and yellow cinema seats
hiding our eyes in our hands—as if that ever worked.
Now, I ignore the actors with their
overhyped breakups and televised makeups,
the massive salaries and big studio budgets,
which translates into $10 tickets and $20 popcorn
for you and me. What matters is the end
when the credits role, the moments before
the house lights shine us back to life,
that moment when I can’t remember
who I am and what I stand for.
It is the drama and the theater of it all.
It is me and my son, just like me and my mom,
watching the world end and begin again,
our hands greasy from hot buttered popcorn.
I remember my mother sneaking candy and sodas
in her purse past the Circle 6 box office,
me handing the tickets to the usher
and entering the dark cave
with its silvered glyphs on screen,
but that doesn’t matter.
I’d study the movie listings
like the betting line for the race track.
What will it be this week, E.T?
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan?
Poltergeist? While other girls
collected Barbie dolls I collected
ticket stubs. On Sunday afternoons
you’d find us slumped in our
orange and yellow cinema seats
hiding our eyes in our hands—as if that ever worked.
Now, I ignore the actors with their
overhyped breakups and televised makeups,
the massive salaries and big studio budgets,
which translates into $10 tickets and $20 popcorn
for you and me. What matters is the end
when the credits role, the moments before
the house lights shine us back to life,
that moment when I can’t remember
who I am and what I stand for.
It is the drama and the theater of it all.
It is me and my son, just like me and my mom,
watching the world end and begin again,
our hands greasy from hot buttered popcorn.
Comments
your endings are always so well spoken, and in this case its the perfect wrap up for everything else that came before it, those last two lines were my favorite:
"watching the world end and begin again,
our hands greasy from hot buttered popcorn."
I so enjoy your blog, your poetry (I loved the "Tea" poem below. Thanks for sharing your stuff.
Deck the Halls!ekjfg
“I remember my mother sneaking candy and sodas in her purse past the Circle 6 box office,”
My mother would make popcorn on the stove and put it into a big brown paper bag. We would take it with us to the movies. That was the 1970s and folks really didn’t watch what you brought to the movie theater especially in our neighborhood.
I love what you said about the drama and the theater of it all. That’s exactly why I love to go. I think you captured the soul of a movie enthusiast in the lines below.
“It is the drama and the theater of it all. It is me and my son, just like me and my mom,
watching the world end and begin again, our hands greasy from hot buttered popcorn.”
Thanks for your Thursday Poem. It hit the spot. Now I gotta figure out what movie to see this weekend… perhaps a Sunday matinee… Any suggestions?
Peace and Poetry, Ananda
Movie suggestions ... hmmm. I want to see "No Country for Old Men," but I am also waiting for Denzel in "The Great Debaters" in December. "This Christmas" looks good, too.
There are a couple of lines that I feel take away from the experience:
"but that doesn't matter"
"as if that ever worked" - for me they take the reader out of the experience in the movie theater.
Yes the movies were serious business in my house. Glad to see so many people share the same affection as I do.
Its a pleasure to read your beautiful words,
Peace and light,
Maithri
I obviously have the same memories as I, too, went to the AMC Circle 6 with my hidden treats. Then, when we were older, my parents would just drop us off at the door and we would run in with our change in our hands. Like when we were 10. Just dropped off at the mall for 6 hours so I could see Star Wars three times in a row.
Now, I still go to AMC. I'm a bit older but those bags of snacks and drinks still line my purse as I sneak from one theatre to another.